


give me the first taste

by freezerjerky



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Sushi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 14:02:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15664656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freezerjerky/pseuds/freezerjerky
Summary: Hermann’s tried, he honestly has. He knows the best way to hold most things he needs to, chalk, pencils, a cane, a hand, but no matter what he does, he cannot master the finer skill of holding chopsticks. After years of trying, he’s taken to dealing with the embarrassment and asking for alternate eating utensils because if he tries to use the chopsticks, he’ll likely end up either taking hours to eat or going hungry.or the boys get a bit inappropriate in a sushi restaurant





	give me the first taste

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is based on concepts I've discussed on twitter [here.](https://twitter.com/newtguzzler/status/1027765961183641600)
> 
> In addition to my awesome tweets, find me on tumblr @ [pendragoff](http://pendragoff.tumblr.com).

Newt has no actual concept of how tea should be made. On the rare occasions he opts for it instead of coffee, he’ll shove a mug with a tea bag inside into the microwave and hit two minutes. Then he’ll neglect it for another half hour before he has to heat it up again. Hermann has watched this happen several times, right before his eyes, and has to admire his own fortitude in not immediately ending his relationship with Newt for this crime.

To mitigate some of the tension over this tea strategy, he starts to boil a pot to share between the two of them. Hermann even allows Newt to drink out of one of his good teacups on those occasions. The first few times, he makes them both their tea and doesn’t say anything when Newt puts several teaspoonfuls of sugar into the cup.

When he lets Newt pour his own cup for the first time, though, he’s momentarily completely out of love with him. Newt pours the tea first, then dumps in a fairly large amount of milk.

“That’s not how it’s done,” Hermann remarks, because he cannot prevent himself. “You put the milk in before the tea.”

“What does it matter?” Newt asks, mid dumping his usual large amount of sugar in.

“Well, it makes for a better taste when you pour the tea into in afterwards. If you’re brewing the tea in the mug itself, then you should add the milk afterwards because you do not want the milk to interfere with the brewing.”

Newt snorts into his mug, sending little reverberations of tea into the air. “Dude. It’s tea.”

“There’s a proper way it’s done. It’s about the experience of drinking the tea.”

The way Newt gestures around the room is a challenge. They’re sitting in their respective chairs in the lab and there’s a very large bit of kaiju on Newt’s side of the lab and everything else is chaos. Admittedly, this is not exactly a tea room in Central London, but Hermann enjoys his small indulgences.

“Okay, okay.” Newt takes another sip and then sticks out his pinky in mockery. “I promise to drink my tea the proper way on one condition.”

Hermann’s used to this sort of clause. He’ll make a professional demand or maybe even a request for a sexual favor. Everything with Newt is a challenge, which is part of the joy of being with him. Hermann doesn’t mean that sarcastically, which is how he knows that he’s doomed for life.

“What is your condition, Newton?”

“You learn how to use chopsticks.”

The remnants of the anger Hermann felt last time they argued about this start to flare, but he manages to subdue it. Last time there was shouting in the middle of a ramen shop and then very angry kissing in an alleyway. Then more shouting in Hermann’s room until someone knocked on their door and separated them for the evening.

“I don’t need to know how to use chopsticks,” Hermann states coolly.

“You’re living in China, sweetheart. You need to know how to use chopsticks.”

“I live on a base where we use forks and leave the Shatterdome maybe once week.”

Newt places his tea cup on his desk and leans forward, looking intently at Hermann. His gaze is warm but also somewhat unnerving in an unexpected way.

“Let’s get sushi tonight,” Newt suggests. “You can try to use chopsticks then.”

Hermann’s tried, he honestly has. He knows the best way to hold most things he needs to, chalk, pencils, a cane, a hand, but no matter what he does, he cannot master the finer skill of holding chopsticks. After years of trying, he’s taken to dealing with the embarrassment and asking for alternate eating utensils because if he tries to use the chopsticks, he’ll likely end up either taking hours to eat or going hungry.

“The only person who’s going to be embarrassed when I don’t use them is you, Newton,” Hermann declares. “I hope you’re aware of this.”

“I’m not going to be embarrassed, I’m only going to be single.”

After a few moments of silence, Hermann takes a sip of his tea, then places it down. “Darling, I know that’s probably the most hollow threat you can possibly give.”

“I mean it. With all my heart.”

“Mhm.” Hermann fixes his glasses on his face, because it is time to get back to work. “And then when I bring back a young man for rebound sex, I’m sure you won’t be jealous at all.”

“I’ll bring back a whole damn couple, Hermann. A couple.”

“That sounds like far too much work, doesn’t it?” Hermann doesn’t look up from the papers he’s started to file through. “Can you bring yourself to last long enough for two partners?”

“Oh, you say that now-”

“I’m working, Newton.” Hermann holds up a hand and they drop the conversation.

 

The sushi spot was apparently a favorite of Newt’s when he was single, because the staff recognizes him. They’re seated in a fairly secluded spot, which Hermann is grateful for. He’s well and truly not embarrassed about the issue of the chopsticks, but he doesn’t need people staring or asking questions. Nonetheless, he perseveres in his desire to be contrary when Newt is looking particularly smug. Hermann even takes it a step farther and asks for a fork and knife and, while that earns him a strange look, he receives them anyway. Newt gives him a pointed look across the table.

“You can eat sushi with your fingers,” Newt half-whispers. “You don’t need to use a fork of all things.”

“I don’t see what the problem is here. It doesn’t matter how I eat something.”

“It’s sushi, there’s a way it’s done.”

“Much like my beloved tea, there’s a way that should be done as well.”

“Well, when we’re living in England and going to tea rooms, we’ll talk.” Newt holds up the menu, assessing what to order. The spot is very popular with American expats who infamously do not bother to learn another language, so thankfully everything’s in English.

“We’re in Hong Kong, that’s not Japan, dearest.” Hermann’s already marked off his selections and slid the card forward.

Newt continues to debate what to order before he impulsively chooses items, putting his card alongside Hermann’s. Thankfully, they don’t have much time to continue to argue once the order has been taken because the restaurant is known for its fast service. They don’t mind, honestly, but the other patrons may stare if they shout in public.

Unlike his past few experiences, Hermann doesn’t even attempt to use his chopsticks, in fact, he makes a rather dramatic show of cutting up his pieces of sushi, eating them in two or three bites instead of the one that most sushi should be eaten in.

“Hermann, dude. You cannot do that,” Newt says, his voice surprisingly low. “I’m really going to have to consider the breaking up thing if you do that.”

To prove how little he cares for societal convention in this isolated instance, Hermann cuts his next piece into the smallest possible pieces, taking delicate bites. Newt’s trying to eat his own food, but he just stares ahead at this act of defiance. Hermann, usually level headed unless confronted, clearly feels this is a confrontation and is rising to the challenge.

“You need to eat your food,” Hermann remarks, placing down his knife and fork between bites.

“You’re distracting me.”

“If it bothers you that much, you can just feed me like a child.”

Only a moment later, Newt’s out of his seat and sliding on the opposite side next to Hermann. He slides his plate over to the other side and without another word, he’s holding a piece of sushi up to Hermann’s face, balanced firmly and properly on his chopsticks. Hermann stares incredulously at it for a moment before he leans forward, taking the bite. It feels awkward at first, but he does notice the fact that Newt looks pleased with himself, and something else entirely.

Thinking this is done, Hermann lifts his fork to eat but Newt grabs his wrist, laying his hand on top of Hermann’s so he doesn’t move it. Newt takes one of his own pieces and eats it before he lifts another to Hermann’s mouth. This one, Hermann makes a bit of a show of taking. Eating from chopsticks isn’t really sexy, but for some reason, Newt seems to be finding it appealing, and he does love to get Newt worked up.

“Do you, uh,” Newt starts. “Do you mind if I use my fingers for this one?” Sweet, beautiful, transparent Newt. 

“I can use my own fingers if that’s the case,” Hermann teases. “But I suppose you may.”

Hermann leans forward expectantly, parting his lips. Newt takes the sushi, dipping it delicately in sauce before he lifts it to Hermann’s mouth. The bite he takes is calculated perfectly, just the barest graze of his lip to the tip of Newt’s finger. It’s a tease, the faintest promise of things to come.

“I think I’m changing my mind about this chopsticks thing,” Newt observes, already dipping the next piece.

“How easily you’re convinced.” Hermann repeats the exact action from before, down to the gentle tease of lips against skin.

This time, however, he reaches out and stops Newt from withdrawing his hand fully, holding it still until he’s chewed his bite fully. Delicately, he lifts Newt’s pointer finger to his mouth, licking off the tiniest bit of sauce that has dripped there. It’s an overdone effort that ends in a gentle suck to the finger before pulling it away, but they’re in a dark corner of a restaurant and teasing Newt means a more complete victory. Hermann gives him a smile, looking at him under heavily lidded eyes.

“Dude. You, uh-” Newt’s blush is visible even in the dimly lit corner. “You have to warn a guy before you do something like that.”

“Is it a problem?” He pointedly looks, but does not comment further when Newt tries to subtly adjust himself under the table.

“Nope.” Newt’s hand doesn’t re-emerge, instead settling high on Hermann’s inner thigh. Normally he’d object to this but it seems only fair after the display he’d given.

Newt moves on to a third piece, holding it out to Hermann. He takes the bite, chewing happily afterwards. This time, he takes Newt’s hand after to kiss the pad of each fingertip, an action of gratitude for his service. Newt’s other hand squeezes his thigh very hard.

“Why don’t I feed you something, darling?” Hermann asks. “You’ve hardly had time to touch your food.”

“Right now I’m finding it hard to eat when I keep thinking about your mouth wrapped around-”

Hermann presses a finger to Newt’s lips, silencing him. That’s not appropriate talk for a public place. He should have known better than to put any part of him at Newt’s mercy, though, because in the next moment, his finger is in Newt’s mouth and receiving the type of treatment that is not usually given to a finger, and should not be used in public.

“Newton,” he exhales. The sensation is going straight to his cock, and he knows full well that Newt knows this, given his hand’s close proximity.

“Yes?” Newt asks, after he releases the finger with an exaggerated pop.

“This is really not appropriate for a public restaurant.”

“You absolutely started it, Hermann.” Newt squeezes his thigh again before he leans in to kiss his cheek. Hermann turns his head marginally, so that he catches his lips instead.

“And I will be finishing it,” he answers, pulling away from Newt. “And if you’re very lucky, it will involve my mouth doing what you’re thinking about right now.”

Newt slides closer to him, so they’re positioned about as close as they can be. Hermann takes the liberty of lifting a piece of Newt’s sushi to him, which he does take, without much of a show at all. This may be done to disappoint Hermann, but he suspects Newt is preoccupied with something else, judging by the fact that his hand is now on Hermann’s groin.

“Well, I thought I could start with you first,” Newt begins, leaning in so he can press a kiss to Hermann’s neck. “My hand, my mouth, whatever part of me you want.”

“Are there that many other parts?” Hermann teases, gripping Newt’s knee. “Bits of you I was not aware of?”

“I think by now you’ve kissed and sucked and catalogued all of the parts.” Newt nips along his jaw. “At least all of the parts that matter.” He’s rubbing Hermann steadily through his trousers now.

“We should pay. And leave.”

Newt’s scrambling for his wallet then. It’s not easy to grab it when he’s got one of his hands pre-occupied, but Hermann does the service of moving away to remove the distraction. Just about all of the bills from Newt’s wallet end up on the table.

“There. Paid.” Newt’s grabbing for Hermann’s hand, not caring about the excess money on the table or the remaining sushi on their plates.

“I think you can wait a few more minutes.” Hermann flags down the waiter, requesting the check in no uncertain terms.

He collects the bills that Newt’s left on the table, handing the neat stack back to him. It might be a power play after the events of the evening, but Hermann is determined to pay for this meal. When they receive the check, he immediately brandishes his card. This counts as a victory, at least for the first half of the evening.

 

Usually by the time they get back to their shared room in the Shatterdome (previously known as Hermann’s room) the tension has simmered down. It’s not an easy journey back and there’s always people they know around. This time, though? It was a challenge. Secret touches, kisses in far too public places. The only reason they even make it to the room is that someone walks by and pointedly clears their throat as they’re kissing against the door. (And Hermann, god help him, bad leg and all, is about to drop to his knees right there.)

Hermann blushes and then hastily slips into the room, nearly leaving Newt behind outside. They don’t touch only long enough to take off their respective clothes. It’s quicker that way and while there’s something so romantic about stripping your lover out of their clothing, it often just gets in the way of skin on skin. That’s what they have, just a few minutes later, as they kiss in bed, laying side by side. It’s oddly tender after the amorous teasing earlier in the evening.

“I love you,” Newt says softly, sliding his hand down Hermann’s chest. “Even if you can’t use chopsticks.”

“This again?” Hermann asks, but he’s smiling. “Because the sushi experience was much more enjoyable than the tea.”

“Mhm.” Newt wraps a hand around Hermann’s cock, starting to stroke hard and fast. There’s no need to start slow, they’ve been engaged in foreplay for an hour or longer. Hermann grips his arm, holding on tightly. 

“You never said what you wanted.” Newt kisses him, harder than they had been a few moments ago. “Tell me what you want.”

“Honestly? I want to have you in my mouth.”

Newt groans very loudly at that. Hermann’s taken his last chance at victory from him tonight. He pushes Newt gently over so he’s lying on his back.Without much ado, he moves down the bed, settling between Newt’s legs. Hermann kisses along his inner thighs, stopping to suck a bruise when he can’t help himself. There’s a few faded bruises along his thighs from about a week prior, so Hermann assumes he’d appreciate a fresh addition. The way he moans and writhes under him only proves that assumption.

When he finally takes Newt in his mouth, he has to hold on Newt’s hip to keep him from moving. This is not uncommon for him as well, the eagerness to move and to experience everything fully. Hermann wants to keep control just a few minutes longer, though, and he bobs steadily, looking up at Newt through his lashes, putting on a show of his pleasure as his eyes flutter shut. Newt’s hand comes down, resting on the back of his head, playing with his hair. Newt’s particularly fond of running his hands over the shaved bits, but tonight he’s urgent, reaching for any length he can.

Hermann lets go of his hip, lets Newt move how he wants to. It’s difficult to leave himself to the mercy of someone else like this, but he trusts Newt. Thrusting in earnest, it’s not long until Newt comes, crying out as he releases. Hermann has to hit his hand twice to get him to release his hair and he sputters a bit when he catches his breath, trying to recover and make wiping semen from the corner of his mouth look appealing. He sits up, still between Newt’s legs as one dangles idly off the edge of the bed.

“Babe,” Newt sits up in the bed. “That was fantastic. Tell me exactly what you want.”

“I think I’m good.” Hermann grins at him and reaches down to fist his own cock, giving a few hard strokes.

“Oh.” Newt flushes, looking oddly demure for a man who just fucked someone else’s mouth. “Oh, you beautiful, beautiful man. Let me see you touch that big dick, alright? I want you to think about fucking me good and hard and-”

He wouldn’t have needed half that praise to come right then, and he does, spilling over his hand and onto Newt’s upper thighs. When he’s done, Newt surges forward to kiss him, hard and open mouthed. If they were a decade younger, he’d be ready to go again in a matter of minutes.

“Why do you, uh,” Hermann begins, once they break away from the kiss. “The size of my-”

“Well, first of all, calling your partner’s dick big is typically a common thing,” Newt explains, grabbing the first thing he can find (his underwear) to wipe down his thighs. “And also, you’ve got a big cock, dude. You’re a genius, I thought you knew this by now.”

“I’ve never really bothered looking into that set of data.” Hermann opts to clean himself up with a washcloth, meaning he must leave the bed. It gives him an opportunity to grab his cane and make sure it’s easy to access in the morning. “I could go for a cuppa, do you want some tea?”

Newt laughs. “Only if you let me make it the way I want.”

Hermann glares at him, and he’s aware it must be comical when he’s naked and his hair’s a mess. “If I put on the electric kettle, you’re supposed to put the milk in second, so you’ll be fine.”

“Right, right.” Newt busies himself with pulling loose the covers so he can slip under them. “I think I’ll pass. I won’t survive another food disagreement tonight.”

Hermann shakes his head and grabs the electric kettle off of his desk to fill it in the bathroom sink. These differences really don’t matter at the end of the day.

**Author's Note:**

> The proper way Hermann describes making tea is according to a scientific study that the milk should be poured in first for teat that is brewed in a pot, but you should add the milk after if the brewing is occurring in the mug.
> 
> Yes, it's totally cool to eat sushi with your fingers. Might be less cool to use it as extended foreplay but...
> 
> Much like Hermann, I have tried and failed to learn how to use chopsticks many times.
> 
> Title lifted from "First Taste" by Fiona Apple


End file.
